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Mr. Wraith


Lived in Era 31, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

Wraith was an orphan in this new era. His ancestors did not leave any trace of their rule. He had grown up in the streets poor and often had to steal from stalls just to live.

As he grew older, matters grew worse and worse. He had little money and spent it drinking in taverns. He ended every night in a fight with some new scar or bruise.

One day, a monk found him lying half dead after a particularly bad fight and took him in. As Wraith recovered, the monk offered to teach him basic things and help get him on his feet in the outside world.

When he left the monastery, he met a man in a bar. This man had a vision of huge castles and armies, all united under the same banner. He was an eccentric and rich but senile man. He lat Wraith work in his castle and Wraith rose through the ranks until he was granted a city. He built this carefully and soon he could make more cities, then armies to protect these cities.

All the time, Wraith was united under the banner of the 'Royal Order of Claidhmore'. He even acted as a diplomat in some cases and made many powerful friends and worthy allies.

Although he received many interesting offers from various great powers, Wraith kept his allegiance to the 'Royal Order of Claidhmore' through even the most troubling periods.

Wraith was impressed by magic and always had a natural curiosity towards it. He spent a lot of his life training himself in its secrets and astounding abilities. He became a pretty accomplished mage and his soldiers were some of the best in the Kingdom.

That was when he set his sights on war. The art of war was a delicate one, with many implications and variables. Wraith hired war veterans from other lands in his Kingdom to help train his soldiers and Wraith personally charged into a battle, armed with his customary dirk in his left hand and a Mortuary Sword in his right.

He made many allies in his fights. However, he also had a number of arguments with members both in and out of his beloved Kingdom.

To make matters worse, his Kingdom's leader was often called away on matters concerning Foreign Affairs and that was when a particularly hot-headed member took control of the Kingdom under false pretences.

However this matter occurred as Wraith's health started to fade.

Mr. Wraith


Lived in Era 32, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

((I'll write it later))

Mr. Wraith


Lived in Era 32, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

Wraith was adopted by an Elven man one day. He soon found out that this man was actually a powerful ruler who wanted to take him under his wing and teach him the art of war.

They got along fine and Wraith was a smart, strong student although he was always lacking in the mystical arts and befriended a fine, young Elven lady to help him with this.

However, one day his adopted father was called out to war. Although he led a fierce battle, he was killed by the forces of Dark Immunity. Angered by the news, Wraith led his forces to victory in vengeance, not only over Dark Immunity but over his whole Kingdom.

Feeling invincible, Wraith roared as he held up the head of this menace over the battlements of the final city. Soldiers cheered, prisoners trembled but Wraith roared loud and strong.

After this battle, Wraith looked for records of his adoptive father but none were ever found. Obviously, his Elven father hadn't been expecting such a sudden end.

After this, Wraith followed his Elven father's footsteps and helped the Royal Order of Claidhmore in their wars. He also expelled and completely destroyed a traitor in the Kingdom who had no respect for anyone.

Towards the end of his time, Wraith was out of enemies. Being in ROC, he wasn't allowed to attack his nearest neighbours except for one Kingdom who were still far away. He started the long march.

Sir Wraith


Lived in Era 33, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

"Out of the shadows they came. A quick, silent battle ensued. They were dead. The 'Hidden Daggers' had done their job. They returned from whence they came.

With the Kingdom 'Ownified Pzornification' lying in ruins, Wraith's nation lead a peaceful life. There was naught to do for a while until the arrival of 'Havoc' at his Kingdoms gates. They came spreading that which they were named for however the 'Royal Order of Claidhmore' quickly summoned that which it could to defeat this menace. Wraith was on the opposite side of the realm however he did his best to help.

As the battle started, Wraith received calls for help on 3 fronts. A Mr. Phoenixblaze had called to him for assistance in the far North. After much thought, but little consultation, Wraith's soldiers donned their winter furs and thick boots and trudged on North to the freezing temperatures. There, they started a colony. Named after the mercenaries they were, this colony started to expand and grow, dealing only with armaments and warfare, ignoring the mines and farms that the South placed their faith in.

At first, things seemed to go smoothly however an interesting twist had been noticed by a lone scout. Mr. Phoenixblaze, the person who had convinced Wraith to lend his abilities, no longer flew the Wolven Banners among his battlements nor among his armies! What sort of trick was this?!

Meanwhile, another band of mercenaries answered the second plead for help to the South. After a long, tiring journey, they set up an embassy among UNSC. Here, they too turned into the hardened mercenaries that their Northern brethren had become. Unlike in the North, they wore very little clothing due to the extreme temperature but were formidable, nonetheless.

The third plead for help was different. It was unlike the first two in the sense that it came from his Kingdom! Wraith quickly read over the message and decided on a course of action. He barked orders at his advisors while reading over reports from his Spellweavers. So gold was pouring into the nation, was it? It would soon be gone supporting his Kingdom by purchasing all its produce, mainly stone, to continue the vicious cycle that comes with being a magician. He sometimes tired from getting no consolation, not even a word of thanks for his help. So much so, he had to be the gentleman and thank the seller himself! He stared at the sky and contemplated how necessary he was to his Kingdom and the limitless possibilities of going to lead on his own… but he would not do that till the end of the world, at the very least.

Within a short period of time, Wraith was able to help with the third plead of assistance. He was to lead his soldiers himself. The outcome of the battle would soon be known. The nation he was attacking was lead by a Ms. Living Dead Girl. She was a good tactician, he knew that. She had destroyed his allies’ forces and indeed, a small troop he had sent himself. In spite of this, he prepared to plan and strategise so as to do what his allies could not, and all in the span of twenty-four days! This was a feat that he hoped would be remembered. What made this planned feat even more incredible was that he planned to even give a city or two to one of his Kingdom’s members as well!

Needless to say, the small army he sent was killed. They were only Riders though so he didn't spend too much time dwelling on it. Reinforcements surpassed him and did the job for him.

That was when Wraith started thinking about a different way of ending the war. He had remembered something he had heard his old teacher let slip and now obsessed on it - day and night. However, as much as he wanted to do this, he could not neglect his Kingdom duties. He built yet another armoury on one of the 'Havoc'-'Royal Order of Claidhmore' Fronts behind a city called 'Paris'. From here, he would specialise in defensive tactics and got to work training as quickly as he could....

The rest of the era went in a blur. He coculd remember casting Armageddon and the frantic scuttle of soldiers. Time passed him by as he sorted out arguments. His largest army was that with 80,000 archmages and they did their job splendidly! But yet, the world ended and nothing could stop that from happening. The world was his hostage..."



*Wraith closed his book in his old age. He had wanted to leave something for his children and his children's children so he started to seal it up but a thought came into his head. He opened up the first page and wrote just one line.*

'No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. '

Sir Wraith


Lived in Era 33, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

x

Sir Wraith


Lived in Era 33, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal Order of Claidhmore

Glitch. - I restarted in Zetamania and Armageddon was going off every tick. It happened before aswell. This is getting ridiculous..

Sir Wraith


Lived in Era 33, got 1 heir(s) (Anarkist The Wraith) and was a member of Wraithish

Late Start, Impossibly Hard core to defend, Few members because I refused the pros. Lets see where this gets us. ;)

Lord Anarkist The Wraith


Lived in Era 34, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Wraithish

Oh, for the record, last history posted involved me starting in the last week after I cast Arma. Hence the crappy score. ^^


This era I'm on vacation. Which rocks, except for my VU scores X_X

Lord Wraith


Lived in Era 34, got 1 heir(s) (Incognito) and was a member of Crucifiction

x

Lord Incognito


Lived in Era 35, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Gruumsh

x

Lord Wraith


Lived in Era 36, got 1 heir(s) (Frost Wraith) and was a member of Prosapia

Name - Ranraac Wraith
Race - Elf
Age - 112
Alignment - Neutral
Tall/Short - Tall
Build - Athletic
Hair Color - Silver
Facial Hair - Clean Shaven
Class - Assassin
Weapon - A bluish, longbladed dirk that glows when it kills an enemy. A dull, whitish sabre. A small knife on his right thigh. Longbow strung across his back when not in use with a quiver lying across his waist.
Armor - Black light leather armor for easy mobility.
Skills - Dual Wielding weapons, Thieving, Great Archer
Home - Sarmen Forest



[[To be continued when thouht up ;p ]]

Lord Frost Wraith


Lived in Era 38 and got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Hermit).

x

Lord Wraith The Hermit


Lived in Era 39 and got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Hermit).

Ugh, started in Nirvana after four months away... Troll and Pump Kin back stabbed... how gay >.>

Lord Wraith The Hermit


Lived in Era 39, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Hermit) and was a member of Heaven

Widowmaker
Navy Seal
Noble Crusher

The backstabbing bf trio. DMC suck c*ck.

Lord Wraith The Hermit


Lived in Era 40, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Inactive) and was a member of Heaven

x

Lord Wraith The Inactive


Lived in Era 40, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Bored) and was a member of The ROC Elders

x

Lord Wraith The Bored


Lived in Era 41, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Bloody) and was a member of The ROC Elders

x

Lord Wraith The Bloody


Lived in Era 41, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Royal order of Claidmore

x

Lord Wraith


Lived in Era 42, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Inactive) and was a member of Royal order of Claidmore

x

Lord Wraith The Inactive


Lived in Era 42, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith The Inactive) and was a member of Royal order of Claidmore

x

Lord Wraith The Inactive


Lived in Era 42, got 1 heir(s) (Wraith) and was a member of Shadow Form

x

Lord Wraith


Lived in Era 43, got 1 heir(s) (Fuelled Byy Lsd) and was a member of Domination

Desperately scrambling up the slope, Ranraac looked around at the surrounding countryside. the Hills and mountains in the area he had just come from were dotted with new buildings and laborious constructions. It was a mad rush and new settlements were springing up everywhere so, so quickly.

However, he had no chance to stop and admire the handiwork, he had homes to construct and people to protect. Shouting down orders to the rest of the army, he pointed out a small niche-like valley in the mountainside and his people moved to their new home...

Merely a day later, Ranraac was impressed with the progress. A modest little village had been constructed just overnight and his people were already settling in. Sure, it wasn't as fine or grand as the settlements they had left behind but still it wasn't too shabby. He knew now he could leave the work up to the peasants now that the Foundations had been laid. He needed to attend to other matters and quickly summoned his few soldiers to his side.

Plans were made and scouts were sent out. Discovering the lay of the land was necessary for survival, of him and his Kingdom, and he would not let anyone down. as the last scout was assigned orders and marched off into the distance, Ranraac laid his head to rest.

The next morning, he received word that some of the scouts had decided to recruit a couple of citizens from a little farming community up north. Though they were farmers and lumberjacks, they had a great respect for nature and were thereon known as the Tree Huggers. None from this community would ever harm the land. Everything taken from Nature would be replaced tenfold and Ranraac smiled pleased at this news. Not many people had this deep respect for the land they stood on and it reminded Ranraac of an earlier time; a forgotten childhood.

Turning his mind to other matters, Ranraac looked at the progress of his citizens. Apparently, there had been sightings of barbarians and wolves to the South. That would not bode well for anyone he cared for and yet, there was not much he could do except read his correspondence and wait.

The next day, Ranraac woke up fuelled like a raging fire. He knew what must be done and he wasted no time doing it. Orders were given, feathers were rustled and flames ignited. The forges were lit and the books of lore dusted off. The Ragnarok of the Gods would occur, but not in the high Heavens, or the flaming pits of Hell, but on the land he stood upon.

And with that realisation, he stood atop the bastions and stared off into the distance, looking at the myriad of barbaric, uncivilized banners, fluttering in the wind so dangerously close...

The days passed and the cities grew and prospered around but there was no happiness in the lands. Despair was seen in every man, woman's or child's face and Ranraac was distraught. A large responsibility fell to him to fulfil and there was no other way to do it...

Donning his robes, he stood in front of the selected few. Old, young; tall, short; there were thousands of individuals and each one was willing to devote themselves to the tasks they were set. Their training had begun, and each would have the weight of their Lord and King on their shoulders...
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