Roark – Warlock

A hulking figure walked through the forests nearby the Caparthian mountains, heading towards the desolate range with a sense of meandering purpose. Was he moving in a serpentine fashion to avoid being tracked by the menagerie of nightmarish beasts that prowled in those woods? Did he know of the dangers of the mountains he was heading too? Or was he just a foolish adventurer who had gotten lost after having one to many at one of the remote inns? 

None of those were actually the case, as this journey was more forced upon him than anything else. You see, this intimidating brute of a man wasn't actually a man at all, but a child of the Shade. Though he did a good job of keeping himself inconspicuous by donning the garb of a mercenary or adventurer. Even then, it helped that his armor was adorned with all manner of teeth and claws from the beasts he had slain in his journey for solitude. Add on the massive battle axe across his back and the one handed war hammer at his hip, the intimidation factor was complete. Of course, there will always be those that don't get the message and try to approach him, but luckily for them this sorcerer is a different breed than the vile siblings he was on his way to meet. Unlike the others, who are more than happy to spread mayhem wherever they go, Roark was more fond of being alone and away from the mortals. Sure he had the evil energy burning within him like all the others, but for some reason Roark didn't crave power and destruction like the rest did. 

Sadly, this didn't mean he could opt out of a direct summons from his “father”, since open defiance would lead to certain death. This is of course the reason for him zig-zagging his way there, for as long as he was headed in the direction of the meeting place, it didn't matter whether he got there first or last. As he drew close to the mountains, Roark cleared his mind, not wanting to expend any of his valuable energy worrying over things that had no real significance on him.

The steep climb up the unforgiving rock face was nothing for Roark, heaving himself up onto the final ledge that had an oddly out of place path leading away from it. Walking along it, Roark made no attempts to approach conservatively, as he stopped right on the edge of the group gathered at the end of the path heading down the other side of the mountain. 

“So, what does he want now?” Roark said, his deep voice seeming to emanate around them, surprising those that didn't hear him approach.