Information

Raistlin-
Legacy Name: Raistlin-

The Common Harvester
Owner: Darkhound

Age: 15 years, 3 months, 1 day

Born: February 17th, 2009

Adopted: 15 years, 3 months, 1 day ago (Legacy)

Adopted: February 17th, 2009 (Legacy)

Statistics

• Level: 41
   
• Strength: 103
   
• Defense: 101
   
• Speed: 100
   
• Health: 100
   
• HP: 26/100
   
• Intelligence: 1
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

#pet_image {background-image: url('http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v142/DG-sama/raistlincopy.png');}[center][img]http://images.subeta.net/items/book_dreamjournal.gif[/img][img]http://images.subeta.net/items/weapon_galaxystaff.gif[/img][img]http://images.subeta.net/items/thiefmarquise.gif[/img][/center][center][size="36pt"][font="Kunstler Script"]Raistlin Majere[/font][/center]

[size="8pt"]Raistlin lived in a town by the name of Solace with his mother, father, sister, and brother. His father worked full-time as wood cutter, rarely seen at home, and his mother was in sickly condition. She usually sat in a chair, prone to fits and trances that could last for hours. His sister, Kitiara, was a strong and fierce girl, skilled with the sword and longing for a chance to see the world, but she stayed at home because of Raistlin.

Raistlin was the exact opposite of his brother, despite being twins. His brother, Caramon, was tall, strong, and handsome, his hair thick and curly, with dark honest eyes, a gentle personality, and was always getting along with people. Raistlin, though the same height, was pale and very physically weak due to his almost skeletal thinness. He had thin auburn hair that hung to his shoulders, gray-blue eyes, and pale skin, his resemblance to his brother very slight and almost indiscernible. Because of Raistlin's weakness, Caramon took it upon himself to protect his brother, something that Raistlin despised. Caramon loved Raistlin and wanted best for him, but his love was smothering, stifling Rastlin, and Raistlin hated him for it. Despite this, Raistlin had one advantage over Caramon. His intelligence.

Caramon may be good-looking and kind, but he wasn't that horribly bright. Raistlin, however, was sly and cunning, able to learn things at an amazing rate, almost always able to see small details that others missed, and had an unusual wisdom for his young age.

One day, at six years old, his sister Kitiara came to the house and commanded him to follow her. He and Caramon (for Caramon followed his brother like a faithful dog) followed her to the local inn and stopped before a mage. The mage examined Raistlin, and after a small talk with him announced that he would bring Raistlin to a school of magic.

Raistlin couldn't have been happier. He always felt left out of everything, his brother getting all of the attention while Raistlin stood in the sidelines. But now, here was something that he could do, something that wouldn't be dwarfed by Caramon. Elated, he left with the mage, and soon arrived at the school.

His days at the school were rather boring. He learned much faster than any of the other boys, and he was even smarter than the teacher, though that wasn't saying much. He was also very powerful in the magic, stronger than anyone there. Soon the other boys began to pick on and demean him, once even sliding the stool out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. They were only jealous though, he thought, surveying them coolly as he slowly stood. They couldn't reach his level so they tried to bring him down to theirs.

Finally, after one more incident in which he proved his intelligence over theirs, they stopped bothering him. At first he liked it, but soon he began to miss the taunting. When they had, the attention, however annoying and angering, had pleased him, told him that he was not a complete failure. However perverted, it had been a sign of at least some measure of respect. But now it was gone. He was an outcast.--------

Raistlin coasted through the school for nine and a half more years, learning to write and pronounce the words of magic and to gather the necessary components to work the spells. At sixteen he arrived back at home for the summer.

As he and Caramon rode in a wagon to their home, they heard a commotion up ahead. When they reached it, they beheld a horrible sight. Their father had been crushed by a falling tree and was dead. His heart clenching, Raistlin rushed over with Caramon and saw that their mother, traumatized by her husband's death, had lapsed into one of her trances and would not come out. She died three days later.

Raistlin was hurt deeply by her death. She had been the only one that he had truly been close to. He caught a terrible fever that day and was bedridden for a week. Eventually he pulled out, and began to practice his magic again. From then on he resolved not to be influenced by someone like that again. Have the power to do the influencing.

A day later a girl that he had always liked approached him, perhaps pitying him for his loss, and after talking for some time she asked him to come to her house that night. Amazed and pleased, Raistlin accepted the offer. For once in his life he had beat Caramon. The girl wanted him, Raistlin, not his brother.

After dark he traveled to her dwelling. Once there he could see nothing in the house, but after some time he heard soft sounds from the shed. Curious, he approached it and peered through the keyhole. It was dim, but by the light he could see the forms of Caramon and the girl bedding together.

Horrified, he whirled and fled, eventually coming to a stop near a tree. Sobbing for breath he bent and vomited. Of course how had he not known? Perfect Caramon and his perfect looks. Of course no one would look at Raistlin, skinny, plain Raistlin who dabbled and magic and spoke to none. Hatred for his brother pounded through him, then faded. Love was a weakness, causing one to sacrifice themselves for another. In order to have power he had to have no weaknesses. Besides, magic was his love, his life: it alone made him happy. He would give anything for his art. Anything.--------

At twenty-one Raistlin was well versed in the art of magic, and lived alone with Caramon in their old house. Caramon may be an infuriating dolt, but he was his brother. Of course, he still an outcast. People looked at him sideways, whispered about him behind his back, and he hated them for it. One day he would show them! One day they would call [i]him[/i] master, and no longer would they step on those weaker than themselves! [i]The weaker ones . . . like me[/i], he thought bitterly.

Raistlin enjoyed using his herbs and magic to care for the sick, but not out of compassion. He like the feeling of power he had over that person, the power over life and death. He loved the feeling of denying death one more victim. This was one thing he could do, one thing that Caramon couldn't outshine him at. And it was sweet.

One day, there was a knock on the door, and it was none other than Raistlin’s teacher. Raistlin blinked in surprise, for his teacher had never made any sign that he wished to see him, quite the opposite. Pressing his thin lips together, his teacher handed him a scroll and announced that Raistlin had been summoned to the Tower of High Sorcery to undertake the Test to become a mage. Casting him an appraising look, his teacher turned and headed back down the garden path.

Raistlin was so excited that he danced exuberantly about the house, and upon Caramon's arrival, he flung his arms about his brother and burst into tears. Misreading Raistlin's emotion's, Caramon panicked, but Raistlin assured him that he was okay, and proceeded to tell him of his orders. He was to take the Test on the seventh minute of the seventh hour of the seventh day of the seventh month that year.

Three months later they departed from their home town, and traveled to Forest of Wayreth where the Tower was located. When they arrived, Raistlin saw six other apprentices alreading standing in the huge, domed obsidian room waiting to be tested. After several minutes the Par-Salian, the head of the Tower, appeared before them. He had neither entered through a door nor dropped from the ceiling: he was simply there. Raising a scroll of parchment, the Par-Salian read off the names of those to be tested and Raistlin tensed, his hands gripping eachother. But his name wasn't called. After the others had departed, the Par-Salian turned to Raistlin and Caramon. The Par-Salian told Caramon that he could watch Raistlin's Test, for Caramon feared for his brother: some people didn't survive the Test. Then the Par-Salian finally sent Raistlin onward.

As the Par-Salian watched Rasitlin vanish through a great arched doorway, he thought to himself that there was something dark about the boy. But he was stronger than anyone he knew in magic, and there was the prophecy. They needed someone to save the world from the Dark Queen, the evil god Takhisis. And the Par-Salian had chosen Raistlin. He only wished that swords did not have two edges, for it would be so easy for the darkness in Raistlin to turn against them.--------

Afterwards, the Test was muddled to Raistlin, though he vaguely recalled fighting Dark Elves and a powerful undead mage, Fistandantilus. But the last part he and Caramon remembered forever.

[i]Raistlin lay on the ground gasping for breath, almost fainting. A deep gash ran along his ribs and a hole gaped in his chest, his blood soaking his robes. Caramon rushed to Raistlin with a cry, scooping him up and running back down the hall. As he did though, the undead mage, Fistandantilus, appeared. Laying Raistlin on the floor, Caramon stepped forward.

Raistlin struggled to his feet, calling to his brother "My magic can destroy it! Get out of my way, Caramon". But Caramon didn't heed him. Stepping forward, Caramon raised his hands and powerful magic in the form of lightning sprang from his hands, blasting through the undead mage.

"How . . . how did you do that?" Raistlin gasped, sagging against the wall.

"Do what Raist?" he responded.

"The magic!" Raistlin cried in fury, "The magic!"

"Oh, that," he said with a shy smile. "I've always been able to."

It is not possible, Raistlin thought frantically, he couldn't easily have what I worked for years to attain. Old inner pain clawed at him, tearing at him with poison claws. Caramon, handsome and strong, whom everyone loved, who was everybody's friend, Caramon, who outshone him in everything, while he, Raistlin, skulked in the shadows, unnoticed, unloved, the skinny little runt.

Fury tore through him, his blood burning like acid, his stomach roiling, and his lips pulled back into a snarl. He raised his hands and fire flew from them to strike Caramon in the chest. Caramon staggered back, screaming as the fire consumed him. Gasping, Raistlin slumped and passed out.[/i]

Raistlin sat in a chair in the library. His new staff, the magical Staff of Magius, lay beside him. The smooth wood, topped by a golden claw clasping a crystal, gleamed slightly in the firelight, the crystal glittering. He wore his new red robes, the color of neutrality: one of many changes, results of the Test. His once pale skin was tinted golden, and his hair had turned white. He eyes were golden and the pupils were the shape of hourglasses, a curse to him. His new eyes showed him everything as they must end, in old age and ruin. Everything was ugly in his sight.

He clenched his hand angrily at the thought of his eyes, almost snapping the pen that he wrote with. The Par-Salian had done that to him. The great mage thought to teach Raistlin compassion that way, to "purge him of his darkness", but Raistlin only hated him for it. What was existence without the ability to see beauty, to see life?

Worse though was his new frailty. He had been weak before, but due to his wounds, his heart and lungs were very weak, and he lived in constant pain. He had developed a horrible cough that left him breathless and weak with each bout, a cough that brought blood up from his lungs to drip from his lips. But he also had a feeling that something else was slowly draining him of energy and life . . . something that had happened during the Test that clung to the edge of his memory . . . . but he could not recall. [i]Curse the Par-Salian![/i] he thought, bristling.

He shifted and looked at Caramon, who was making a tea that would help temporarily relieve Raistlin's cough. The Caramon he had killed had been an illusion, a part of the Test, but Caramon had seen it. The other mages had been grim, but Caramon put it off by saying that Raistlin had been ill, not in his right mind.

Raistlin laid his pen down upon his notations, stretching his fingers. Caramon was a dolt and Raistlin had always been jealous of the attention that he got from everyone while he, Raistlin, was ignored, but sometimes he felt that he did love Caramon. Sometimes.

Would I go back to the days of my youth, Raistlin thought, watching his brother stir the tea. Then we were twins, together in the womb, still together but separate. Would I go back?

Closing the volume of his notations, he picked up his pen and wrote on the cover:

[i]I, Magus[/i]

And, with a firm, swift stroke, he underlined it.[/size]

[center]~From the Dragonlance series~[/center]
[center]~More from "Soulforge"~[/center]

[size="12pt"]Quotes by Raistlin:[/size]

[i]"Hope is the denial of reality. It is the carrot dangled before the draft horse to keep him plodding along in a vain attempt to reach it"

"No moment in my life exists except this moment. I am born in this moment and if I fail I will die in this moment."

"Life is dangerous, Caramon. Just stepping out that door is dangerous! You cannot hide me from danger. Death floats in the air, creeps through the window, comes in with the hand-shake of a stranger. If we stop living because we fear death we have already died."

"All my life, I was my own person. The choices I made, I made of my own free will. I was never held in thrall by anyone or anything; not even the Queen of Darkness herself! Bow to others in reverence and respect, but never in slavery!"

"The half-elf comes to me for advise, not because I can see the future. I can't. I am no seer. He comes because I am able to think, which is something most of these other fools seem incapable of doing.”[/i]

[center][img]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/b/b4/Raistlin.png/200px-Raistlin.png[/img][/center]

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