Sir Seston Lorac, Brother-at-Arms, Sacred Knight of the Crown

The leaves crackled, the branches snapped, it was the last day of Darkember: cold,
windy, yet very dry. This was a magnificent afternoon for Leon and Gail, for their
firstborn son, Seston, doth was introduced unto the world not too long ago. Auburn
strands of wispy hair with deep almond-touched eyes, this young babe was five weeks
premature. Having been scheduled on the 12th day of Aelmont, as was his father,
along with the belief among the outcrop of Vant'ele that such a long indenture prior
to maturity; meant only that the mother was surely possessed by an utter presence of
evilness which forced the pure at heart child out of the womb without fully maturing.
Hitherto, Gail was sentenced by the coinciding Mayor Rudolph Donnelly and Chief
Okimos, the man of many skills, to see her death upon the scaffold announcing the
arrival of the forty-second day after the morrow, the 12th day of Aelmont, that
esoteric date: the deliverance of Leon sparking the absence of Gail.

    Losing a mother due to birth issues left me to pick up on household chores and keep the kitchenware usable. This event also led me to spending more time at other's house to learn what mothers were like. Since not having one myself to judge, Leon tried desperately to find another mate to help out with a brother or sister. Although, most of the village inhabitants were already married, and that I was nearly seven before Leon introduced me to his fiancé, the time without a mother was lived short-while.
    Adela Rustlethred, a charming elf-maiden was, in no doubt, the one Leon desired. Delicate hands, much too soft to help out with the cleaning, this Damsel had a certain glide about her that could make a water-bug flip from shear jealousy. Anxious enough, I began to become close to my new mother from awe in wonder. Leon did as well, but he had different motives. During all the madness and excitement, I ceased to enjoy it and, instead, realized how my father started to cut and erase Gail out of the family's life. Pictures began to vanish, memories changed and later forgotten, fragrances removed until, alas, she was no longer a part within the house, and no longer a part of me.
    Upon my ninth birthday, Adela conceived a half-Elven child, Elrond. Slender arms with large palms and eyes that changed with the seasons, I was more than invidious towards my brother. Twas eyeing something, I'd snatch it away for myself, leaving him little to do for praise. Entering my teens, the toddler would follow me around, keeping me from popularity and leisure time. Feeling pushed aside, he would go and practice shaving a combatant sword to return and stab me in the ass. At the end of puberty, I, due to the interest of disassembling something to finally restore it back to the former shape, went to Mount Nevermind: the housing of the gnomish race, to learn more about high-tech gadgets and systems.
    My stay within the mountain not only taught me the mechanics of the flingers, but I learned how to defend myself from an old man, Lucretius Climenole. This gnome was marvelous, wise, and very talkative: he knew lots of information and didn't care to share it with anyone, fearing his days under the city would be short lived. He would explain in detail his stories, spitting out thousands of words per minute without stopping, not even when carbon dust flew into his trap. He mentioned of a tale about a fallen knight of Paladine that turned to Takhisis after he slew his dad for trying to discipline him. He stated that a well forted city devoted to Paladine was stationed on the Sancrist Isle. He had a map of the town Garret and made a copy of it for me. After a long three years, I was almost nineteen and travelled back to Vant'ele, my home village, to spread my exciting experiences with the family.
    Elrond, maybe because I shoved him away, or that Adela was of druidic ancenstry and Leon a brutish warrior, had learned the ways of the wild accepting the ranger oath and was currently squired under Lady Jarsa Jinxed, Knight of the Sword! Allowing the news to surpass, I went to the Solamnic base to meet with my nine-year old brother.
    Upon arrival, I caught glances of other children lifting the capes of their sponsor-knight dames and others polishing or fetching armour for the knights. I was disappointed to not find my little brother since it had been a long time since I had spoken with him, and I was starting to feel sorry for all the hurt I caused. Giving up hope that my brother was inside the city, I headed out the south gate and cut through some bushes that appeared to be hiding something. What? I did not know for sure. I followed a path for some odd hours, and heard some kind of beast weezing as if it was wounded. Shifting some of the vines to the side, I found my brother: laying on a bed of straw nurturing a wounded calf. After releasing two breaths of air to show relief: one because I had located my little brother, and the other because it was the calf, not my brother, that was hurt.
    The next couple of months went by pretty swell. First, I became re-acquainted with Elrond by catching up with stories of our travels. He explained how a group of knights came through Vant'ele seeing if there were any hardy men to help out in forting up the unprotected citadel of Garret; that's how he met Lady Jarsa Jinxed. It seemed that my brother needed me to guard and protect him from threats. The knights asked if I would like to enlist within the Order as a squire myself, since I could do more right now than my brother at defending the city from raids. I signed up under the guidence of Lady Jarsa Jinxed also: watching over my brother once again since his childhood.
    Elrond spoke of how Leon and Adela started to push him away to keep their positions in the town's respect. Hearing this took me back to my childhood when my mother died, and I was pushed away due to the newborn child, Elrond. I felt an eerie hatred towards my father, for how he removed my mother's existence from my thoughts. Bringing this to mind, I hated the title Seston uth Leon. Then Elrond mentioned how before he left, that Adela explained his elvish background, and that Lorac the King of Silvanesti was the downfall of their race. I started to compare Leon with King Lorac and realized that they were basically the same in heart: greedy, cold, and always thinking of gaining power for himself. Henceforth, I assumed the title Seston Lorac as a symbolism of my father for making my mother die in memory, due to his Elven passion, the Silvan.

Est Sularus oth Mithas,
Sir Seston Lorac, Knight of the Crown