Legacy of the Dragons
Chloris the Bloody Claw BEN SHALOM
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The peak of Mount Thoularn was once adorned by five colossal statues of litorian tribe leaders. Their shape was thoughtfully carved into black volcanic rock by giant hands. At the base of the sculptures the words “Remember the five fingers that were once a fist” were masterfully inscribed in silver letters. The statues were built in memorial for three lost litorian tribes, destroyed by the dramojh. Three centuries ago, while the dramojh concentrated their war efforts against the giants, several tribes, including the proud Smathor (“Red Claws”) and the Purathandor (“Silvery Manes”), turned as one against the tyrants that ruled the land with an iron fist in what was later named The Great Rebellion. And so it came to be that when the first giants entered Lotharandor, they discovered a land that was already free. It was not a peaceful land, however. The Smathi were unsatisfied with the Purathandi efforts during the rebellion. Rumors turned into accusations that were whispered, then spoken, then shouted: “Where were the Silvery Manes when so few proud tribes stood against the Scaled Ones?” The smearing of their name and reputation enraged the Purathandi, and The War of the Tribes broke out. As the violence escalated, the Smathi—all but destroyed in The Great Rebellion against the dramojh—were at the brink of extinction. It was the giant governor, Poh-Narsod who ended the war between the tribes and established the Peace Vow. Years passed, and the Smathi grew in number. Their wounds healed, but their pride seemed forever impaired. Among them grew a new generation that carried the burden of disgrace. They owed their lives to the giants who had saved them from obliteration, and some considered this a fate worse than death. From this generation of victims, Mavuane was born. It was Mavuane who led many young Smathi to the peak of Mount Thoularn on a rainy day later known as “The Day of the Weeping Blackstone.” She spoke with a clear voice against the patronizing giants who had robbed her tribe of their honor and pride, and she asked her fellows to fight for freedom by her side. Her words found the heart of the young warrior known as Chloris, but her eyes found the eyes of his elder brother, Charon. He refused to accept her vision, however, and left to join the Peace Vow faction. And so, when the moment of choice arrived, it was the brave young Chloris who smashed the statue of Purathandor’s tribe leader atop the mount, becoming the first to swear allegiance to Mavuane. Her band came roaring down the mountain, charging with fierce and grim determination against the Peace Vow giants. Many hearts became hard and many hands learned war the day the Blackstones wept. For seven years Chloris fought in the service of Mavuane. Countless times he painted his claws red, countless times he charged against all odds in her name, spreading havoc in his path, confusing the mightiest of foes with his utter lack of hes-
itation. He always thought of himself more as a servant of the revolutionary than a servant of the revolution. He carried Mavuane’s word through the battlefields and turned her from a fanatic preacher into a prime political leader. The Purathandi called him “The Bloody Claw,” and the giants feared him. Few suspected that Chloris also carried a passion for Mavuane in his heart. He nurtured his romantic dreams secretly, anticipating the right moment to share them with her. After Chloris slew the giant head of the Peace Vow faction, his own brother, Charon, took his place as their leader. Charon asked for a meeting with Mavuane and, against Chloris' advice, she accepted. Charon and Mavuane conferred, but the negotiations were fruitless. Mavuane returned from the meeting burning with anger. She refused to share any details, which troubled Chloris deeply. Mavuane was now more determined than ever before to defeat the Peace Vow faction and execute her vengeful justice upon her enemies. Tired of war, Chloris hoped for a swift victory and a love to flourish in the peace that should follow. But a loathsome betrayal denied him his dream. At the foot of Mount Thoularn the battle ensued. Chloris was fighting at the side of his beloved Mavuane when his brother, Charon, invoked The Power of the Name and compelled him to sheathe his sword. His eyes refused to believe the sight of Mavuane struck down by the giant governor Poh-Narsod in the heat of Chi-Julud. The warring sides parted, and the battle soothed quickly as Mavuane’s warriors scattered. Chloris took the dying Mavuane in his arms and, with tears in her eyes, she begged him for forgiveness: She was a fool, she said, and her foolishness deprived the Smathi of their hope for freedom and honor. She confessed to Chloris that she was infatuated with his brother. After years of abstinence, she offered herself to him during the negotiations, and his refusal to accept her was the cause for her wrath. Chloris was enraged. The envious warrior decided to avenge Mavuane’s death by taking Poh-Narsod’s life. He invoked the name of Mavuane, roaring his intentions loud and clear. His brother answered with an oath of his own: that as long as he had fists to serve him, eyes to see, and warm blood flowing through his veins, Poh-Narsod shall not be harmed. Chloris’ last vestige of feeling for his brother was gone.
Combat Chloris charges into melee wearing Mavuane’s splendorous armor (this is the source of at least some of the rumors regarding the allegedly vengeful and relentless spirit of Mavuane). He is truly awe-inspiring and seems fearless. He combines his dancing bastard sword, wounding battle claws, and his summoned shield and weapon to create a masterful combination of defense and offense, timed to the second.
